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Rebibal of the Annual Onting & Dinner. 
TUESDAY, JULY 23RD, 1907. 
‘‘T have never had a happier, pleasanter, or more instructive 
day.” In thus testifying to his appreciation of the proceedings, 
Dr. G. Morgan (President) voiced the unanimous opinion of those 
members who participated in the Annual Outing of the Society, 
which was revived—after a lapse of 15 years—with the happiest 
results. Leaving Brighton at 10.13, the party proceeded to 
Uckfield, where they boarded chars-a-banc for a long drive 
through the beautiful scenery for which Ashdown Forest is justly 
famous. Passing first through Maresfield, they turned off the 
high road at Lampool Gate, and traversed the hamlet of Fairwarp ; 
and then the road begins to rise sharply, as the ironsand of the 
elevated moorland is entered. Nature has distinctly separated 
this tract from the surrounding country. Oldlands was seen on 
_ the right, and at Duddleswell the top of the ridge was attained, 
Crowborough coming into view to the north-east. The views 
here are magnificent, but the day was too misty. Camp Hill is 
over 700 feet above the sea, and-it only needed the sunshine to 
make the prospect a vision of perfect beauty, but the mist, in 
perpetual obstinacy, still enshrouded the far-away hills. A little 
farther and the country was like a lofty Scottish moor. The land 
was bare of trees for some distance, but the heather was just 
bursting into its purple blossom, and the bracken gave promise of 
luxuriant growth. Once a beautiful valley burst into view, waking 
in one’s mind visions of a happy idieness that might be spent 
there on a future holiday. Anda little later there was a fascinating 
glimpse of the entrance to another valley, exactly like a Devon- 
shire coombe, and you involuntarily looked for the blue sea 
flowing at the end in brilliant contrast against the green of the 
trees, as you find it in the Shire of the Sea Kings ; but there was 
only that eternal gray mist hemming in the horizon with a spiteful 
persistence that would have made you savage—if you had not 
been a philosopher. 
Onward again, and a little way to the right as the road forked 
the party passed near a big clump of trees known by the curious 
name of King’s Standing. King Edward II. often used to visit 
Ashdown Forest, where he had a hunting lodge ; and it is thought 
that the place derived its name from the fact that he used to 
stand there while the deer were driven by him. A more interest- 
ing explanation, as mentioned by Mr. Davey, is furnished by an 
